The Adventures of a Self Interested Self Insert
by DaGeek247
Summary: All that power and a self insert wants to spend his time helping random characters he doesn't know? Never! Being Harry Potter sucks if you try to be altruistic anyways. Harry Potter SI, magic is as close to canon as possible, characters too, starts third year after a dementor kisses Harry Potter
1. Chapter 1

It started out as a vague feeling of cold; like I should have worn a hoodie or a long sleeved shirt instead of my current T-shirt. I didn't notice it until after when I was remembering what happened. Then it became colder and instead of a vague feeling of chill, it was the cold that you feel when you finally drag yourself out of the shower in the middle of winter, but haven't yet dried off or even reached the towel. It became colder even still and that was when I realized something was off.

It's not everyday that the room temperature drops to freezing in a matter of minutes, regardless of where you are from, or how crazy you think your local weather can get. Even worse, there was a roaring sound like a waterfall in the distance or a sea shell right next to my ears. Before I could do anything about my new sensory overload, not that I had any idea of what I should be doing, everything went topsy-turvy and I lost all sense of direction.

Time, thankfully, was easy to measure. The roaring in my ears, the rather unsettling cold, the erratic and uncontrollable spinning, it all was not so easy to understand. Thankfully it only lasted a few moments. Of course, right as the world started to fix itself, and my vision stopped spinning, I lost consciousness.

-

Waking up, I noticed that instead of my cramped room with my bed, my fridge full of drinks and my hand built desktop, I was in a vaguely off white room full of beds, fancy stonework and large windows that overlooked a rather beautiful landscape with a lake and the outline of mountains in the distance.

Funny, I had thought that I had a really nasty bout of food poisoning or maybe someone slipped me drugs or something. I never did drugs, but the disorientation from alcohol was enough to feul my imagination of the harder drugs for sure. Of course, I had no idea how drugs worked regardless.

But as far as I could tell, this was a very real bed, in a very real, very fancy room with big windows and other beds with curtains nearby. The weirdest thing, besides being drugged and kidnapped, was the fact that this room seemed very familiar, almost, hated and yet with certain fondness too. I had never had that sort of combination of feelings before, about anything, so this whole thing was all sorts of wrong and I had no idea how to deal with it. I was probably still under the effect of the drugs that knocked me out in the first place.

Having decided that I was still drugged, I got up from my seated spot on the bed, and tried to walk to the windows to get a better view. I was actually worried about feeling more the spinning that brought me here causing me to fall over or even empty my stomach but I was pleased to find that whatever was making the room feel so off kilter was not located in my stomach or my inner ear.  
Of course, the world still felt extremely wrong in many different ways, so I still stumbled a little bit before I made it to the windows. I was also pleased to find that the view from the windows was even more glorious than the one from the bed. There was a Forrest with a adorable little wooden hut and a pumpkin garden in the back right next to the Forrest. There were some really well trimmed lawns between the hut and my room, and there was a lake on my right side. Even better, I seemed to be in some sort of tower, or high up place because I had a great view of the various colors that were swirling in and around evrrything too. The Forrest has some deep greens that turned almost black. The hut had a little bit of brown hanging about it in a haze, but was mostly a very lovely shade of neon green. The lake was actually lacking a special color of its own, but I couldn't tell if that was because I'm colorblind or the lake had a fog color that matched the lake almost perfectly.

Suprisingly enough the lawn between me and the forest was actually the most colorful of them all. I have no clue why the drugs were mostly affecting just my sight, but it did make for a very stunning view of what looked to me to be a swirled rainbow just floating around the grass. Heck, if I looked closely I could even see a very deep black on the outer edges past the lake.

It was great. I could totally get used to a view like this. Actually, having that thought, I sat down at the window and watched the neon fog float about in lazy and hypnotic patterns. I even thought I saw a dog pattern floating behind a mouse. I always wanted a pet mouse or three. I had heard that they could be trained to do some pretty great stuff.

I almost fell asleep in from of that window, and I wasn't even really tired. Before I was drugged, I had just had lunch and bedtime wasn't for quite a few hours yet. Of course, in my drowsy half awake state, I didn't notice that a door had opened up and people had come through it.

"Harry! You're awake! How are you feeling?"

Of course, seeing as there were beds in this room, and some of them had curtains, I didn't think they were talking to me. But I turned around to look and see who it was anyways. This was taken as an excuse for the child with the voice to approach me, and give me a hug of all things.

Even stranger, I was the same height as the kid who couldn't be older than fourteen. She was female, with long brown hair, lighter than most would expect when they read the word brown, and was wearing a black dress with a gold and red tie. What a weird thing to wear. She pulled back from the hug, which was actually nice, even though I had no clue who she was. As she pulled back, I was able to see her face which was quite frankly, not the most prettiest of faces I had seen. Her skin was way better than mine but she had a childish figure that promised later beauty in life but wasn't there yet.

"Harry?" She asked, looking at me in a slightly confused expression.

"Oh, hey. I think you've got the wrong person. Have you checked the other beds?" For some reason, my words seemed to surprise her, and she also looked slightly hurt? I suck at reading facial expressions, even if it is on a rather large child.

"Harry, are you okay? Did Madam Pomphrey say you could leave yet?"

I'm not stupid. I may be lazy and not a genius by any stretch of the definition, but I'm not stupid. I'm also a huge reader of fanfiction and I know exactly who Madam Pomphrey is, at least in my favorite book series. I also know who Harry is in those stories, and vividly remember exactly what he did in those stories as well.

So when this girl mentioned a Madam Pomphrey, and called me Harry, I was slightly worried, but not entirely freaked out just yet. Besides, even if the worst was true, I always did want to learn to do magic.

Of course, the girl noticed that I wasn't really paying attention to her, and she actually started to get tears in her eyes.

"It's not funny Harry! I was so worried about you, and so was Ron, when the train happened and the professors sent on ahead because couldn't wake up because of the dementors and" and then she actually did start crying and I began to piece together just how screwed I really was, as well as how I may have ended getting here in the first place.

The girl, who I was guessing was a certain muggleborn, was still crying. She reminded me of my family, so having no idea what to do, I took her back into a hug and let her cry on my shoulder.

This was when an older man with an awesome beard and an outrageously blue dress, er, robe, I guess is the term and an older woman with a fancy pointy hat, no belt buckle though, both walked in the same door that the girl in my arms came through.

Remember when I said earlier that I'm not stupid? Well, I also said I'm not a genius. This means that I have no clue who to trust, and worse, what kind of situation I'm in. I have read too many versions where dumbles is a flat out dark lord in his own right, with the entire magical community already under his thumb, and voldemort was a mere distraction for him because he was bored. Worse, this story could have followed canon just as easily too.

I had no clue whether Albus was clueless, deliberately ignorant, or worse, planned all of Harry's misfortune on his own, and I had no way to tell which version this was. Top it all off, I can't speak with any sort of accent to save my life, and this situation may very well require it to save my life anyways.

And I had been so excited about the view, too.

If I had been paying more attention, rather than freaking out and wondering if he was just a man who made mistakes, or a man with a plan, I would have noticed that all of these people had their own little hazes, or auras since we're being all magical now, that each had their own distinct colors.

"Ah! Harry! You're awake! How are you feeling my boy?"

Shoot, I still honestly had no idea if he was being old man condescending, evil dark lord looking down on me, or he just genuinely thought that I was a kid and also his. Normally I'd get upset about people pointing out my age as a way of establishing superiority, but the dudes entire beard was white, not even the tip of it had any other color. If this was the real Dumbledore, then he was closer to one hundred and fifty than he was to fifty. He had every tight to think of my own mother as a child, simply because of his enormous perspective. I couldn't very well be mad at him for it, even if he was evil. He probably called the other staff children as well.

I can't speak with an accent, I don't know any of the magical material, I might not even be magical, and I suck at acting anyways. So I came to a decision.

I would be honest, at least, as much as I could without telling them all just how much I really knew.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who any of you people are. Did I die or something?" That's how people usually put their self inserts into this type of story, right?

This of course, did not go over well, but I had no idea just how badly it would go. The woman with the pointy hat, no belt buckle no matter how much I wanted there to be one on it, pulled the girl away from me, and the old man with the beard pointed a rather fancily carved stick at me.

Maybe having had two possessions by a certain dark lord in a row put them on guard? I don't know, this was all very new to me.

"Who are you?" The woman with the pointy hat asked, in a rather intimidating voice. Dang could she pull off scary. I once was terrified by a clerk at a fast food place when she was nothing but courteous and this was very much the same, except it was actually pointed at me and also deliberate. I'm pretty sure the clerk just had a nasty case of rbf.

Actually though, I could see this working. "No, not until you tell me your name first." Step one, piss them off.

"Harry! You will speak with respect when talking to your elders! And get rid of that rediculous accent! You're not american."

"Funny story that, I'm pretty sure i'm not the Harry you are looking for. Did he have messy hair, glasses, a scar on his forehead and a penchant for trouble?"

She just looked at me, and before either of us could say more, the man with the beard and the stick pointed at me interrupted. "Yes, that's the one. Did you happen to see him?"

Huh. Well that makes this easier. "Nope, haven't got a clue where he went. One moment I'm minding my own business when all of a sudden someone has drugged me and now I'm in a strange place, with a nice view and there is a strange child who was worried about my shaving habits and kept calling me hairy."

Without any sort of warning a bolt of light shoots out of the bearded man's carved stick and tied up in ropes and there is a chair underneath me. Then, he walked over to me and started speaking in what I assume to be a bastard Latin all while moving his stick over me. Now that I'm paying attention, I can even see the various colors shooting from his wand to me, and then back to himself again.

Luckily, they didn't gag me so I'm free to talk still. "Maybe if you hurry, you can find him. I only just woke up here and he probably didn't get very far."

The bearded man, I think I'll stick to Dumbledore, jerked his wand up, and my face was forced to point at his. I closed my eyes, and made a guess. "It's illegal to look into somebody else's mind without their permission.

I thought I caught a hint of smugness, but I have no idea why because his next words confirmed my guess. "Minerva, please take Mrs Granger here and go to see if Harry really is outside. Perhaps he is heading to the Gryffindore common room?"

Minerva looked to protest, but at a sharp look from Dumbledore, she quietly took Mrs Granger with her back out of the room. As they left, I'm almost certain I heard Hermione asking if wizards really could read minds.

Of course, rules mean nothing when there is nobody else to witness the act. This is when I realise I have a choice. I could stay, confide in Dumbledore and hope he's just a flawed man trying to help and maybe fix the Voldemort problem then live as comfortable as a wizard who knows who to invest in because he's from a similar future. I could also straight up say screw you guys, I'm going home. Not help them, try to get voldemort off my back by telling him the whole prophesy and my interpretation that it means we're both immortal until one of us kills the other. Try to prepare for the owls, and then when they're done, move back to america and live as a wizard or something. I never read any of the ilvermorny stories, but the fact that there is a magic school in america is a good enough sign that living as a wizard wouldn't be too hard over there.

Do I try to live for me or do I try to help these people who I have absolutely no real connection to? Live in this magical world for me, or for others? If I'm honest with myself, I had no clue what was the better answer.

I have no magic skill, so trying to take on voldemort is suicide, but hoping he leaves me alone after first year and thirteen years of obsession is also incredibly naive. The only solution I can see to all of this is with the man in front of me, who is being strangely silent while I try to think this through.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" He asks, with a serious look on his normally vaguely smiling face.

Screw it, I'm going to try to do both. "Yes, I'm pretty sure that on the train the dementor did in fact manage to kill poor harry, but also it may have pulled me in to his body at the same time. If there is any Harry in me, I have no clue where he is."

His face went a little pale. He conjured another, much more comfortable looking chair compared to my crappy wooden one, and sat down in it. I actually expected him to verify my claims with his wand again, but he just sat there and stared at me with a sad and thoughtful look about him.

Refusing to meet his eyes, even now despite the extremely distracting twinkles, I look at his bent nose and say "I'm willing to negotiate. Where I was pulled from, was a pretty great situation I had worked hard to put together for myself. However, magic isn't just pretty great, it has the potential to really freaking awesome. Conversely, I'm also aware of just how sucky a crucio to the face would end up being.

"As it is, I have only guesses as to how I got here, but I am completely aware of where I can from. I came from a world where the harry potter series is a bestselling fiction series, and I have practically memorized the events in those stories."

Despite myself, I am impressed that his thoughtfully sad expression doesn't change at all. Of course, I'm still looking at his nose, so I can't be too sure. Then he leans forward in his better-than-mine chair and says "I need proof first."

"Let's see, this is third year, I think Harry some sort of adventure at the leaky cauldron for the last few weeks of summer instead of chilling at the Dursleys like he normally does, Sirius Black, the alleged mass murderer has escaped from Azkaban and is off doing whatever. This means that you have never said more than a few words to harry about yourself, or about harry and all the important events surrounding him. Proof that I know more than I shouldn't? I think the most personal information I can think of was your love for a certain handsome man named Gellert, a rather eventful summer where your brother punched you in the face and broke your nose and there was a duel between you, Gellert Grindelwald and your brother Aberforth where your sis-"

"Don't!" He said with a pained voice. Then in a calmer voice he said, "some things are best left unsaid."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I have other information that Harry shouldn't, but is harder to verify as truth."

"So, pretending that your information proves that you know things that shouldn't be known, what exactly are you willing to negotiate?"

"The prophesy. Regardless of whether or not it's true now, it has been shared and everyone else believes , the prophesy that says that Voldemort can only be killed by me, and that I can only be killed by him.

"I was quite happy with my life before I was pulled here. As far as I can tell, there's two choices for you. Try to get voldemort to kill me, so he is then not immortal by fate and then try to kill him yourself. Or you could try to get me to kill him for you.

"I'm willing to share the power he doesn't know in exchange for a few concessions as well as a hard fought attempt to kill him myself."

I pause and keep looking at his face. He looks back at me. I swear, if he doesn't ask and I have to expl-"What concessions are you looking for?"

"Magic! I want to learn all about it! Is transfiguration permanent? What about conjuration? What makes a mundane different from a magical? Is wandless magic just hard, or does it really require someone to be really powerful to even be possible? What are runes like? Are they the language of magic or are the something else?"

"Anything else?" He says with a smile back on his face.

"Right yes. I need a place to live that isn't an abusive home. I don't really care where, but it needs to be somewhere that isn't durskaban. Also, I want a new identity to live as. It doesn't matter who, but since I am not harry potter I most definitely do not want to deal with his problems. Being Harry Potter is lethal."

"Goodness gracious, durskaban? Really?"

"Yes. They would be quite happy to hear that Harry Potter is never coming back, and I may end up stabbing them in their sleep just because I can't stand them. I was an adult before I came here, with my own job and responsible for myself. Living under someone else's authority may very well end up with me as a murderer."

"There are protections in place that can't -"

"I'm aware of the blood protections." I cut him off. "Ignoring the fact that Lily Evans died for Harry Potter and not me, the blood protections did an amazing job of protecting Harry from the outside world, but they did a terrible job of protecting him from his own relatives."

"I see. Another time then."

"I feel like you're missing the point there. I'm an adult, regardless of the body I currently inhabit. I may have had plans for college once I finished with the military, but losing all that autonomy that I am used to would make me go crazy. I will not willingly subject myself to a dictatorship, no matter how benevolent it is."

If I wasn't so sure of how smart he was I would have thought he had ignored my last statement when he said "was there anything else?"

"Other than protections from various known dangers, no. I share knowledge the dark lord doesn't have and in reuturn you provide protection, autonomy and the ability to learn all about magic."

"What's keeping me from just taking the knowledge out of your head without your permission?"

Sheeeeiiitt. Nothing, but that's a terrible answer for me to have. "I'm already betting my continued health and welfare on your goodwill and morals. These ropes holding me are a testament to that."

"Right, Let me take care of that." With nary a swish or a flick, my ropes disappear. My chair still stays hardbacked and uncomfortable.

I dont believe for one second that he forgot about them, but at least they're gone now.

I hate that I have to trust one man for my safety. Especially if that man is named Dumbledore and my current name is Harry Potter.

We sit there, looking at each other, but not speaking. I stare at his amazingly impressive beard. He looks at me with a twinkle and a vague smile. Time passes, and then I say "do we have a deal?"

"What about Harry Potter? What happens to him when you show up with your new identity?"

"I don't actually care. He's in a coma because of the dementors maybe? That's close enough to the truth."

"No, I don't think that will work. I can't have Harry Potter disappear under my protection."

"And I can't convincingly pretend to be someone I'm not. There needs to be some sort of excuse for my major behavior shift, because I don't even know how to do first year spells.

"Speaking of first year spells, is magic a part of the soul, or is it in the blood like many people would have you believe? Can I even do magic?

"Actually, that last one is most important. I'm not doing anything to help you if I can't enjoy the benefits too."

With that said, I walked back to the bed I woke up in which, now that I was paying attention to it, was bigger than most beds I had encountered. I'm used to tiny beds because of living in army barracks, so it's not surprising that a regular sized bed would seem bigger than it should be. However, this bed looked to be normal sized and yet at the same time also very big. It was very disorienting.

Trying to Ignore the oversized but small bed, I reached the dresser and found an iconic pair of round glasses and a sti-wand. It's a wand.

I put the glasses on and the world came into focus, a little more obviously than my old glasses did for me. A small sacrifice to make if I get to use magic. Then I picked up the wand and gave it a wave.

It was a rather dull shower of dust that seemed to be coughed out of its tip. Was that a wheeze? Well, I don't have to worry about brother wand crap happening - I'm not gimping my progress just to maintain a pretense of being someone else.

I turned back to Dumbledore and said "I'm going to need a new wand. And this makes me being Harry even harder. You could totally blame fudge for having dementors that would attack the boy who lived and kill him. Maybe even use it to get a better Minister of Magic that would actually prepare the ministry for a second war."

"Second war? I have my suspicions but nothing so promising."

"He came back in every single story I read, regardless of the circumstances. Given the fact that this body is still active and alive even after being kissed, I am going to go with the assumption that fate itself will not settle for anything less than a battle between me and old tom himself, regardless of what we do.

"Also, did your little spells for possession and other such means of controlling someone show anything odd about me? Perhaps that I have a little more soul than most people would?"

He paused. I'm pretty sure he knew what horcruxes were after second year but - nope. The look of utter horror on his face shows exactly how much he realized.

"I need to know if my existence in this universe is going to last until I go to fight lord whatshisname where I will bravely sacrifice myself to kill the horcrux that was leeching off of poor harry or if being kissed got rid of it. If the former is true, my asking price just got a whole lot higher."

He continued to look at me with his mouth open and abject horror still on his face. Time to keep talking until he figures it out I guess. I hate silences.

"Because having a soul and a half definitely explains the dementors interest in poor Harry way better than any crack pot theory about more suffering than anyone else. Heck, Luna Lovegood watched her mother die right in front of her while she could do nothing about it. Neville longvottom was around when his parents were tortured into insanity and had lived his whole childhood believing himself to be even more worthless than Harry ever did. That's also completely ignoring the death eater children who may have been put under the cruciatus or watched their parents tortured in front of them. All Harry had was an abusive home life and a vague memory of a woman screaming 'not Harry!' to some faceless menace."

Dumbledore's face became more and more horrified as I kept talking until he realized what he was doing and closed his mouth. The frown remained though.

"If you had some sort of spell that checked for soul or soul fragments or something that'd be great." I said, trying to get him back on track.

He looked back to my face from the wall he was frowning at and said "I know of no such spell to detect the presence of a soul."

Well dang. That's left to guessing for now then. What's next on my list? Right, I can't convincingly play Harry regardless of what Dumbledore needs. I also need to figure where I'm headed to in the immediate future. Like, right now. Is the nurse station place thing my new room? I forgot the name, give me a break. I'm sure it'll come up eventually.

Dumbledore is still looking at the wall in horror. I guess I'll go find the nurse or something. Maybe she has something for shock? I looked around, and found the only other door that was available. I ignored the door that Dumbledore came from.

I walked up to what I was guessing was the nurse door and gave it a knock. It was only a few moments before the an older looking woman with grey hair and blue eyes opened the door.

Before she could do anything but look at me I said "I broke Dumbledore. You might want to have a look at him."

She gave me a look that promised, well, something but I dont know how to read people at all and bustled over to where Dumbledore was still staring at the wall in his comfy looking chair.

Before the poor madam could start to wave her wand at him, he turned back to her and said "I'm fine Poppy, just a shock is all. I think, however, that it would be vest if Harry stayed in your care and that he did not have any visitors at all for the time being. I have many things to think about and to do." With that said, he stood up from his chair, the shock and horror gone and his vaguely grandfatherly smile firmly back in place, if a little shaken.

After Dumbledore vanished his chair and left the room Madam Pomphrey turned back to me and said "What could you have possible told him to make him behave that way? I haven't seen him so bothered since - well since a long time ago."

I'm sure as heck not sharing anything with this nurse. Harry was abused and she didn't even notice. Dumbledore may be an ends justify the means kind of guy, but as a nurse Madam Pomphrey failed her duty in a major way. "I don't have any idea." I lied to her face.

She was smart enough to see the lie for what it was. She frowned at me and began to set up curtains around my bed and once that was done left me to my own devices.

After that, I went back to my window to watch all the fascinating colors. I was colorblind in my old body, and while Harry has eyesight worse than mine, he most definitely could see all the colors. Something which I have every intention of fully enjoying.

Besides the fact the Voldemort may end up killing me, I can't help but feel excited. I may not want to be Harry Potter, but if I must, then I will take every advantage that it gives me. Harry may only be thirteen, but I was twenty when I was pulled here. It'll only be a few years before I find a girl who would totally shack up with me just because of who I am. Until then I can get away with all sorts of shenanigans and face practically next to no consequences, especially with fate itself, probably, protecting me. Of course a dementor eating me would suck, so maybe I should be sort of careful at least.

I also get to try all sorts of fun magic, maybe I can become an animagus and be a bird or something. Speaking of magic, its all about will and visualization as much as it is about the wand movements and words, right? I should totally be awesome at it. First things first, I need to be able to get myself out of any situation I find myself in without a wand. So a wandless accio would be super helpful, and also really cool to try.

I twirled Harry's wand in front of me, familiarizing myself with the boring shape of it, along with the various scratches, dents and other distinguishing marks. Once I had a pretty good idea of what it looked like in my head, I put it down in front of me.

Then, I closed my eyes and pictured the wand in my head. I lifted hand up like Luke Skywalker did and imagined exactly how it would look flinging itself into my hand.

Nothing happened. Oh well, I'll totally get it eventually. Maybe if I say 'accio'?

"Accio wand!"

Nope. I think I saw it twitch, but that's probably me just imagining things. It seems like I have all afternoon to deal with it though, so I'm sure I'll get it eventually.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore was very worried. He had seen into the young man's mind, regardless of how quickly he averted his gaze. For someone so skilled with magic as Albus was, eye contact was only needed to create a legillemens connection, not to keep it. It was less subtle than Albus preferred but he felt it was justified under the circumstances. If the boy had any knowledge of how mind magic had felt he would have noticed the obvious intrusion, but he didn't.

The boy was telling the truth, and even worse, Albus had seen exactly how terrible his own weakness for power truly was; trying on the horcrux hallow without even checking it for curses. No, Albus was already sure that power would corrupt him as it had so nearly done that one summer all those years ago. However, to lose himself so easily after all these years of self control had put any ideas of doing it all himself out of his mind.

Albus had lied to the boy when he said he didn't know of any spell that detected souls. He had, in fact, done research into it after his suspicions of horcruxes and possessions due to the events of second year. The soul of one Harry Potter was forever gone - to where he did not know. Dementors were such terrible creatures. He could also feel the remnants of Tom Riddle's magic and soul as well. For someone as sensitive to magic as himself, it was obvious what had happened.

Harry was dead, but so was the soul piece that had been with him. At first, Albus had not planned on checking Harry for the horcrux - Albus hadn't wanted to intrude or bring undue attention to it.

But he had, and Harry was gone, as sure as it was to be gone. Albus would not, no, could not try to bring Harry back. Down that path lay madness.

He had never been completely sure of the prophesy, it had all the hallmarks of a proper one but it had also been a job interview and Trelawny had never spoke another one that Albus was aware of since. If Severus hadn't heard and reported part of the prophesy to Tom, he would have let it go. Looking into the future was always hard at the best of times.

After, when Harry had been marked he had continued as if the prophesy was true, because even if it wasn't, it was obvious that Tom believed it.

Which led him back to the problem of the new soul that had appeared in the body of Harry. Clearly, outside forces were at work here, ones more powerful than any he had seen before. If he hadn't known better, he would have said with absolute certainty that the body and the soul belonged together. There were no signs of possession because the body and the soul matched, somehow. By tomorrow, the lingering signs of Tom's soul would be completely gone, and it would be as if the new soul had always existed in Harry's body.

Even worse, was his knowledge and his ignorance. The boy clearly had only an outsiders view of what magic was, what it felt like. Albus had been able to force himself into the his mind, and he hadn't even been detected. The boy had thought he had managed to keep Albus out. He knew Albus might try to get into his mind, hut he had no way of knowing if it had happened at all.

He had no knowledge of magic save the words of a few spells, and that sometimes there were wand motions attached to them. Albus couldn't attempt to just put the boy with a new soul right back into Hogwarts, besides his entire lack of magical knowledge he didn't even speak like a proper British person would. He had the accent of an American of all things.

This new Harry would blend in terribly, and others would take advantage of his weakness as soon as they were seen. And yet, he couldn't have him not show up for third year either. Albus had a lot of titles, but they were mostly useless. The International Confederation of Wizards was useless and only gave suggestions for various governments. They could no more affect change than the Muggle United Nations could.

The wizengamot was a judicial branch, not a political one. Its job was to ensure proper law was upheld, and met out punishments where it was needed. He didn't even have a vote in it because his job was only there to ensure proper laws were being enforced.

Dumbledore had been very careful to avoid power and now if something were to happen to Harry, as it so clearly had, Albus would be unable to change things. Getting kicked out of Hogwarts was a very real possibility. The minister, even though he was voted in, held much more political and legal power than Albus had wanted or gained.

If word got out that Harry was missing, or died, or was in a coma, Albus would have a hard time ensuring the safety of the students from a now obviously not dead Tom Riddle, along with his followers like Sirius Black.

This all was in spite of the fact that the boy he had come to see as his own grandson was now dead.

Yes, Albus Dumbledore was very worried.

* * *

In a far off forest, somewhere near Albania a disembodied soul felt a deep sense of cold, and then the absolute terror of watching a dementor suck the very soul out of its own body.

It screamed as it felt a piece of itself torn out of existence. It writhed in terror as its own existence was snuffed out of being, and yet somehow, it still existed.

If it could think more clearly it would have noticed that it shouldn't have left a piece of itself in anything living, but it didn't. If it had more than rage and terror in its black heart, it would have wondered why it was seeing from the eyes of a child and not the adult it was supposed to be.

As it was, the feeling of a dementor ripping itsself out of existence was enough to reaffirm all its fears. It would not die like some pathetic muggle, pretending to accept what was merely because it couldn't be changed. It would live, and live well. It turned and headed out of the forest. It was time to go and find a worthy servant to gain a new body. It was time to see who was truly loyal.

* * *

In a small curtained off room in the hospital wing, a small malnourished boy with green eyes and messy black hair cheered quietly as he watched the colored lights reach to his wand and made it move away from himself. It hadn't exploded this time, and his eyebrows had already grown back from the last time thanks to a frowning Madam Pomphrey.

It may not be going the right direction, but magic was surprisingly easy. All he had to do was want something to happen, and it was like his body reacted to make it happen. Well, easy considering how fruitless his first few hundred attempts had been. After he had badgered the exasperated nurse into teaching him the summoning charm it had been surprisingly simple to set his wand down and try to recreate the color of magic that made things come to those who called for them.

Of course, he had expected it to take about a month to get it down, so a week was still a happy surprise. Want it, send the right color of magic to it, and stuff happened. He hadn't succeeded yet, but obvious progress was also being made too.

The sound of another explosion sending his wand clattering away along with his newly regrown eyebrows was heard.

In a small office in the hospital wing Madam Pomphrey sighed a small sigh of frustration. Idle hands were truly the devils work.

* * *

In the Hogwarts library a small brown haired girl looked for books on mind magic and worried about her friend.


End file.
